


Paper Planes

by BillieBanshee



Series: Dark Harbor [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV), Z Nation (TV), Zombieland (2009)
Genre: Bisexuality, Canonical Character Death, F/F, F/M, Forced, Forced Eye Contact, Forced Relationship, M/M, Multi, Not Beta Read, Other, Reader Insert, Suicidal Thoughts, Threesome, forced friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2018-03-20 14:53:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3654516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BillieBanshee/pseuds/BillieBanshee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Revamped! Start on Chapter 1 (11) </p><p>It was only the middle of June, and you should've still been in England, yet you were sure the rest of the world was in the same situation as you. You'd already been at the Dixon's temporary base for two weeks, spending your demanded time there for 'protection' until everything blew over. Which would probably never happen.</p><p>What caused the world to end?</p><p>Rumour has it that it burger. But that's just a rumour, right?<br/>___</p><p> </p><p>Ever wanted to be in the walking dead? Ever wanted to date one of the characters?<br/>Ever wanted to slap that character because they're annoying?<br/>Now you can. You can do all of that and more.<br/>This fanfiction is a choose your own path. Your choice could get someone killed, or it could save them from death.<br/>There are only a few relationship choices right now, however there will be more in the future. </p><p>Book 1 of (?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intro

**WARNING: THIS AND THE FOLLOWING CHAPTERS ARE OLD!! SKIP TO CHAPTER 11 TO READ THE NEW AND BETTER VERSION OF THIS FANFICTION. I SHALL LEAVE MY YOUNG CRINGY WORK HERE FOR LAUGHS :P**

 

You sat, staring out of your window. It had become your habit over the previous two weeks. Sleep was elusive and when you did sleep, you were often plagued by nightmares. Your mind simply did not want to shut down.

It was only the middle of June, and you should've still been in England. Yet you were sure the rest of the world was in the same situation as you. You'd already been at the Dixon's temporary base for two weeks, spending your demanded time there for 'protection' until everything blew over. Which would probably never happen. You've done nothing but think during that time. You had far too many questions and too few answers. You constantly worked through every piece of information that you did have, hoping to make some sense out of everything. So far, you weren't having much luck and it was frustrating beyond belief.

Staring into the dark night, the world around you was eerily quiet. Over the past few days, the usual sounds of life became extinct. When your parents flew you over to Georgia to stay with your dad's old colleagues, everything seemed almost completely normal, although you knew it wasn't. From what you'd heard on the news, seen in the papers, there was some sort of virus going around... Bringing the dead back to life, and killing those it touched.

The Dixon's, 'Uncle' Daryl and 'Uncle' Merle, weren't very sociable. You got food, water, a bowl of water to wash with and a five minute walk in the garden each day; after that, you were given a book and told to keep quiet if you laughed a little too loud at a funny sentence. If you asked a question, or even tried to speak to Daryl, you got a grunt in response. You didn't even bother attempting to communicate with the elder Dixon unless it was mandatory. You weren't ready to be felt up and called sugar tits just yet. You were sure Merle wouldn't do anything like that to you, since he literally fed you when you were a baby and your dad trusted him with your life; but there was no harm in being cautious, considering his past 'n all. But you knew Merle wouldn't stoop that low. Not with you. Not to mention you had only just turned fifteen in April, and you wanted to settle into your new status as 'Teen'. Anyways, you were a wait until marriage type, and you knew Merle probably had AIDs. Daryl however-- no. You can't think like that. Not now. You were just a kid to him.

You froze. You then stared harder at the shadows at the end of the street. Seconds later, you were sure of what you'd seen. Someone had just drove onto High Street. Watching closely, you tried to determine if it was friend or foe. It was difficult to tell because, whoever it was, they were extremely adept at sticking to the shadows.

They may have been good at keeping to the shadows, but you quickly realised that they weren't being overly cautious. They seemed to be in a great hurry. Moments later, they were highlighted by the soft glow coming from one of the camp fires in the yard as they crept closer.

You let out an exhale of breath, it was only Merle bringing back dinner.  
"Merle's back." You announced to Daryl who was staring at the TV screen, channel hopping till he found something that was on air.  
Of course, you got a grunt in response.

"Come on, caveman. Let's see what he brought us."  
"I ain't a damn Neanderthal."  
"...Daryl,"  
Grunt.  
"Food..."  
"Piss off will ya?"

You opened your mouth to give him a telling off, but you knew better than to push him right now. Everyone was stressed, hungry, tired, so you simply hopped off the windowsill and shuffled your way downstairs to get your bit of grub.

Taking a sharp intake of breath, you rounded the corner, nodding once to the Pedobear. "What'd you get?" You asked hesitantly, looking up to the taller man.  
"Didn't get shit. The whole towns overrun." Merle explained bitterly, "Yer gonna go hungry tonight."  
You let out a small whine in protest, "Not even a tin of--?"

"There's nothin', kid. Not even a tin of beans. I suggest you go upstairs to bed okay? I gotta speak to Daryl 'bout somethin'-"

You gulped slightly, were they going to kick you out? Had you done something wrong? A million thoughts ran through your mind at once.

"-nothin' for you to worry about though. We jus' gotta prepare incase those walkers come for us."

'A+ parenting, Merle.' You thought sarcastically. You wouldn't dare to say that out loud.

"Oh... Okay." You nodded, shooting him a nervous forced smile, "Um... Oh! Yes! That's what I was going to tell you! In the upstairs lounge there's a good watch out spot. You can see the top of the road, because at the bottom it's a dead end... So if you want, you can have like-- like a five minute head start."  
"Hm." He hummed, "That's a good idea. Could put Daryl there as a watch dog so he can finally do something useful."

A small snicker-giggle escaped your lips, "He's been moping all day. I think he's still trying to get the TV to work. The only thing on air is Friends re-runs. It feels like Groundhog Day," You sighed, shaking your head. "It's killing me."

Merle grunted a laugh before ruffling your unkempt hair, "Hunger will be the thing to kill you first, kiddo. Bed. It's 9 o'clock."

'Wait what?! Are we going to starve to death?! Oh god, oh god.'

"What'd ya' say? She looks ashen." Daryl grunted, entering the kitchen, eyeing up your slightly chubby panicked face as you stared off into space, clearly deep in thought.  
"Told her she's gonna starve to death."

 _Grunt_.

You rolled your eyes, "I was just thinking. That's all. I hope mum and dad are okay." You sighed, shuffling off back upstairs to your room.

Naturally, the men gave you the little girls room.  
Filled with barbies, pink walls, pretty white furniture, a small kiddies bed.  
It felt as if they thought you were around eight years old.

In fact, you hated pink. You never liked it, you never will like it. But in times like these, you couldn't be fussy, you couldn't pick and choose where you wanted to live.

Merle and Daryl chose the houses. And in those houses, you would live until you were forced to leave.

Forced out by the walking dead.

* * *

  
"How many?"  
"I don't know."  
"How can you not know?"  
"'Cause there's too dang many 't count, Merle."  
"How is there too-- oh."  
"Yeah. Now go get the girl. We need 'ta pack up 'n leave before they come any closer."

"Before what come any closer?" You yawned, rubbing your eyes. Their arguing had woke you up.  
Your watch told you it was around lunch time, and ironically, it was the first time you had slept in this long in years.

"The walkers. We need to get goin'." Daryl ground out, handing you his knife, which made you feel rather special since he let no one use his things.

"But three people can't fit on the bike," You reminded him quietly. "I mean... It wouldn't be safe... And three would be too heavy... And Merle loves his bike, don't you Merle? So we can't leave it behind--"  
"Are ya tryin' to convince us to stay? This girls lost her damn mind." Daryl growled out, looking at you in anger and disbelief, causing you to feel ashamed and small.

"It's true though!" You looked between the men in panic. "You guys can go. I'll be okay. I know how to do this."

Surprisingly, you were shocked at what was coming out of your mouth. Were you really going to give up so easily? The apocalypse had only just started.

"Yer an idiot." Daryl snorted, "Merle'll find a truck, we shove the bike on back. What do they teach ya in England? Yer all pathetic when it comes to this crap."

Your cheeks flushed in humiliation. What he said was true. One of the reasons you were sent over here was because of the guns. Most of England would be dead by now, apart from farmers and clay pigeon shooters, of course. Because guns and any other weapons were banned there.

Cringing, you confirmed what he said was true, and before you knew it, you were wedged between the brothers in a red Chevy.

A small yawn escaped your lips as you rested your head back against the seat, "Y'know," you started, "a knife isn't going to protect me when it comes to these walke--"

"No." Merle said firmly.  
"Why not?!"  
"As if we're going to find a gun round here," He scoffed, "They're considered more valuable than gold now days."  
"Well, Daryl has a crossbow. That's not a gun is it? Anyways, you could just steal one--"

"If ya can make somethin' you can keep it." Daryl interrupted, causing you to smile slightly, "Make a slingbow. Simple to make, can shoot anything from it." He shrugged. "But, if ya find a gun you can have it. I don' think just a knife is gonna keep ya safe, unlike Merle." Daryl shot a dark glare to his brother.

You bit your lip to hide your smirk as you sunk deeper into your seat.

There was a comfortable silence for the rest of the drive... To nowhere. Well, it was nowhere to you, since you had no clue where you all were heading. But you trusted them.

Your dad had worked with Merle and Daryl a few times. You weren't sure exactly what the trio did when they met up, but dad made specific trips to America to be with them every few months, and a few times a year they'd come over to England.

They said they were businessmen, but you weren't exactly sure how true that was. Salesmen, possibly, but businessmen? Nah.

"Where are we going?" You spoke after around half an hours silence.  
"Dunno." Merle replied, "Ain't got a location set in mind."

You chewed on your lower lip slightly, looking down to the floor, "Can we go Six Flags? It's near Austell."

Merle shot you a slight glare, "I ain't drivin' four hours to go to a theme park that probably won't even work." He growled out.

You bit your lip a little harder, squeezing your eyes shut. You knew you shouldn't have asked, "But I want to go." You couldn't help but say, "I've never been... Mum and dad never let me. Dad was always working and mum... She doesn't like rides."

"Boohoo. It's too long of a drive." He snapped, stopping the car on the empty road. "If you're gonna complain about it the rest of the ride then I suggest you get out."

You looked up at him sharply, unsure if he was serious or not. He clearly was judging by his face.

What had you done wrong? You only pushed the subject slightly.  
He was being so nice earlier.

"You-- dad wouldn't want you to do this."  
"Yea'? Well your dads probably dead along with your pretty little momma. Now get out. I've had enough of your shit."

You opened your mouth to protest, but nothing came out. You glanced quickly between the two brothers.  
Daryl had the face of someone who had just eaten a lemon, and he clearly didn't agree. But he didn't say anything. He wouldn't fight his brother.

Not even for you.

"Um, which way is Austell?" You asked as Daryl opened the door to climb out, but you didn't give him a chance. You threw your bag over him before climbing over his lap, purposely kneeing him in the crotch. You got out of the car, nodding when he pointed in the direction, which was a guess for him.

His eyes seemed apologetic, but he didn't say anything. He did hand you Merles hand gun, which conveniently only had one bullet.

You narrowed your eyes, "What kinda bullets does this take?" You questioned as Daryl showed you the basics on how to load, unload and prepare to shoot, as well as how to take the safety off and put it on again.  
"9mm." He said gruffly, ruffling your hair once as you turned to walk away.

You nodded, "Thanks." You mumbled, walking away off into the trees.

_I've had enough of your shit.  
9mm._

The last words the Dixon's ever spoke to you.

Arseholes.


	2. Ready or Not

 

The American flag flapped in the wind, causing a slight echo in the empty air. A small smile appeared on your lips. The flag looked beautiful.

Colourful.

Happy.

_This is your land._

You step back from the car, positioning the camera further away to see its full state. Upside down, burning. Even the flag lay upside down.

_This is my land._

A small sigh escaped your lips, which was soon interrupted by rapid footsteps. The camera jiggled in your hands as you nervously searched for the source.

Rapidly, the footsteps became louder, like someone running on metal. You knew you had to get out of there. Leaving your camera behind, you ran.

_Boom._

_Boom._

_Boom._

A zombie ran up the other side of the tangled mess of automobiles. It planted a foot on the underside of the mini and flung itself, arms flailing, down onto the ground in the direction of the camera.

The zombie landed on its stomach, then scrambled on to its hands and knees.

The person who was with you picked up the camera. The camera jiggled more, backing up quickly.

The zombie, who had now regained its footing, began to walk aggressively toward the man and the camera.

The man had seen enough. He turned and ran, the camera bouncing wildly around his neck.

The man and camera whips round to face the creature, as it lets out a horrifying screech and attacks.

The zombie tackles the man, making the camera fall to the ground, filming now nothing but the sky, but the audio of the screams of the man, accompanied by the ripping, crunching and cracking of his body.

You hear nothing.

Silence.

You stare at the recording, your heart racing as you remember your days with Dave.

The zombies face came into frame at an angle, staring into the lens as if it were a mirror. It curiously looks at its reflection, twitching and trembling stiffly.

It moves closer, as if trying to bite it, it's breath fogging up the lens.

You took a sharp intake of breath, putting down the camera. You thought through everything you had just seen and what you had previously been through, before reading the first entry in the diary.

' _Welcome to the Apocaland. This land was made for just you and me._

_Apocaland is like the greatest collection of nightmares, where they only_ **_forgot_ ** _to include the ones where you're naked and the ones where you haven't studied for your exams. Casualty rates have been through the roof, and I'm pretty sure I'm one of the few non-zombies left. I mean, it's amazing how quickly things_   
_can go from bad to total shit storm._   
_And why am I alive when everyone_   
_around me has turned to meat? Because of my little list I call 'The Thirty-Three Rules of Surviving The Apocalypse.''_

You bit your lip, squeezing your eyes shut before forcing them open, to take down the words on the paper.

' _Rule one: Cardio--'_

Pretty self-explanatory, um... Do a lot of cardio. There had been times when you had to run for your life. Literally. So you had to get in shape.

_'-when the virus struck, for obvious reasons, the first ones to go were the fatties.'_

You sighed and shook your head.

_Paul._

Poor fat bastard.

' _As the infection spread and the chaos grew, it wasn't enough to just be fast on your feet. I had to get a gun and learn how to use it. Which leads me to rule number two: The double tap._  
 _In those moments where you're not quite sure if the undead are really dead, dead, don't get all stingy with your bullets. I mean, one more clean shot to the head, and that lady from last week could have avoided becoming a human Happy Meal. Woulda... coulda... shoulda._

_It wasn't long before the zombies began to get clever. When you're at your most vulnerable. Some how they could just, well, smell it. Don't let them catch you with your pants down. Rule number three: Beware of bathrooms. R.I.P Liam. All he wanted was to take a dump in peace._

_There was a lady named Lisa. She didn't focus on her own survival whilst being chased in her car by little dead girls. Rule number four, pretty basic: seatbelt._

_Fasten your seatbelt. It's gonna be a bumpy ride.'_   
______

All you wanted was a cheese burger and a flight back to London. But what you didn't expect was an airport full of half eaten zombies.

Then again, everyone would be wanting a flight to another country, in hope for a place of normality.

However, it's been three months, and still no cure.

There was electricity. Barely, but there was enough for street lights and to stay warm at night.

How did this all happen? Apparently the plague started when someone ate a burger that was infected with a strain of mad cow disease that mutated into the zombie infection. Mad cow became mad human, which became mad zombie.

But, of course, that's just a rumour.

Currently you're walking down the freeway at around 1pm having just ran a mile from the dead chasing you. Your had bag on your back, and Merle's pistol in your hand.

You occasionally see a car pass, but no one stops to help. They probably think you're dead, just like everyone else.

You purse your lips, veering off the road to the trees. You step carefully, trying not to trip over any stray branches, or snap any to alert any zombies of your location.

They couldn't run, luckily, however they could easily catch you. Could they climb though? You didn't know. But what you did know is that they could hear every sound you made. There was probably a hoard hunting you down right now; but you knew that there was no point in panicking. You were on the verge of giving up.

But you wouldn't. You couldn't do that to your family.

There may be no plane to London, but there could be a boat or-- or a train!

There  _are_  trains to England, right?

Please.

Please.

Please.

What if there weren't any? A twelve year old running around an unknown country wasn't exactly safe.

Neither was giving a girl a single bullet and abandoning her in a zombie apocalypse.

A bitter sneer formed onto your face.

_Run, Merle. I'm gonna get you._

_________

The bright morning sun shone in your face as you awoke from your light slumber. Briefly confused, you looked around at the surrounding trees, before remembering where you were.

You lay on a thick branch high above, away from the borderline demonic monsters below.

You remembered something Daryl had told you when you were younger, and he also mentioned it when you were in the car, something about slingbows?

You couldn't help but smile at the fond memories you and the man had shared, even though many were unwilling on his part.

You remembered how you sat in his lap at the age of five, eating a pizza with Finding Nemo on the TV. You weren't listening to that though, you were too focused on Daryl's stories, about him alone in the forest, with only his crossbow and some ivy, enchanted by his voice.

_'If you ever get lost, kid. Remember to bring black or red rubber bands with ya.'_

You giggled at the statement when you were a kid, but now you realised how realistic and handy the statement was.

The only thing you needed was to:

_'Find a toys r us and steal a sling shot. Ain't nobody gonna miss that.'_

Or

_'You can make a bow and arrow if it's easier. Just need some curvy wood and some fishin' line.'_

You pursed your lips. How were you to find that? He never told you.

You exhaled heavily, yet quietly, watching another hoard pass beneath you, completely oblivious.

_____  
It was around 12 pm as you walked down the town road. As the day went on, you were seeing less and less people. You had heard Atlanta being mentioned a few times, apparently being safe and Zombie free.

Conveniently, Atlanta was in the same direction you were heading, so you walked onward.

You puffed out your cheeks as another car sped past you at a billon miles an hour-- okay, probably around fifty, but you weren't judging. It was a freeway after all.

___

Three days you walked.

_Three_.

And out of those three days, only one car stopped. And that car belonged to Tallahassee, a redneck with a Twinky fetish. He reminded you of Merle slightly, but Tallahassee was nicer to some extent. He was childish, had a sense of humor, and he didn't shout at you if you got angry. In fact, he embraced the anger and handed you a crowbar.

And here you stood, in a car park, smashing up a car as hard as you could.

You met Tallahassee fifty miles back, he drove a yellow SUV with the number 3 on the side. You weren't sure if it was his lucky number, or if it was a reference to some pop culture that you weren't aware of, but you didn't have the chance to ask.

He was kind enough to pull over, with Wichita, Little Rock and Columbus, who kindly lent you his rule book, in back, and offer you a ride, after you stuck out your thumb, doing the thing your mum and dad always told you not to.

Hitch hiking.

But desperate times call for desperate measures, you told yourself, over and over and over and over, as guilt attempted to drown you for the tenth time that day.

You could feel Tallahassee's pitiful eyes on you as you dropped the heavy object onto the floor with a loud clatter.

"You got anywhere you're going?" The elder asked, as he leant against the bonnet of the car.

You puffed out your cheeks. You hadn't spoken to any of them yet, in fact, you hadn't spoken since you left Daryl and Merle. So far, you had been mute, the anxiety and stress too much for your little body to cope.

You shook your head, your mouth opening as if to speak, but no words came out. You looked like a freakin' goldfish.

You took a shaky breath, now feeling the pressure as the trio stared at you with expectation.

"Six Flags then London." You whispered hoarsely, your mouth dry from the lack of fluids that were available lately.

Wichita smiled at you softly, "You're English?"

You nodded quickly before wincing at her next question, "Then why are you here?"

Keeping your head down, "I have-- had family friends here but..." You trailed off, chewing on your lower lip, "They ditched me. 'pparently I'm too annoying for them."

"Woah! They left you?! That's so mean!" Little Rock exclaimed, a girl around your age, the others nodding in agreement.  
"Also with just one bullet in Uncle Merle's pistol, so I have to go and find them first." You found yourself saying, "To say goodbye, y'know? Before I leave to find my parents... So if you don't mind, uh, is it possible if I stay with you guys until then?" You mumbled, still not looking at them.

Columbus gave you a small pat on the back, "They're probably in Atlanta--"  
You opened your mouth, to mention Six Flags, but Tallahassee already knew what you were gonna say.

"I'm sorry, Kid. But we can't... We tried the same thing, almost got killed in the process. We can still take ya to Atlanta though?"

You pursed your lips, sinking into silence again. You nodded in acceptance, not saying a word.

Dammit.

'Okay,' you thought, 'Let's do this thing.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: From here until a few chapters, it will reference Zombieland and slightly follow that plot. Don't worry though, we'll be meeting the group very soon.
> 
> I don't own The Walking Dead, or Zombieland, but The Walking Dead owns you, and Zombieland only gets you on the weekends.


	3. News Update

A/N:

Hey everyone, thank you so much for the support (Ao3, you Wattpad folk are quiet). I'm sorry for not updating recently, I've gone through my planning, and I've done lots of work on the plot.

I did plan on this being an interactive series where you, the reader, can choose who you want to be with.

However, when I started writing the later chapters, Daryl just-- Lets just say with where the plot goes, Carl x Reader is near impossible, and the reader has so much chemistry with Daryl, Carl would surely feel like the third wheel. 

Buuuuut, I will work in some Carl x Reader so you can choose for yourself at the end of this. 

~BillieBanshee


	4. Chapter 3/4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters will now be a lot longer, better quality and more frequent now I've gotten to the point and the main-ish :3 thank you for reading and enjoy

Murder is as old as time, and so is the quest to find the killers. But the quest is easy when you're standing in front of them, surrounded by them. Look to the person next to you. They're a murderer. They've got blood on their hands, your parents have... or had got blood on their hands. It doesn't have to be a person. It could have been a fly, a spider, a bird, a pet, even a gold fish! Or... or a zombie

 

Even you were a murderer.

 

You weren't a person or zombie killer five minutes ago but... you were now.

 

It was the 31st of July when all power went out, and everywhere you looked was a ghost town, not one person in sight.

Everywhere you turned, a walking dead person tried to eat you up like you were a bar of chocolate.

 

It was in Toys R Us when a woman, who Daryl would call a 'soccer mom', attacked you.

 

She was a zombie of course; she was your first kill.

 

It should have been simple, but it wasn't. One bullet in the head and the fear stops, you laugh it off and go on your way.

But it wasn't like that; not for you anyway.  It gave you nightmares.

And Daryl was the one that always saved you.

Cheesy, I know, but that was the truth.  
His lovely eyes shining with protectiveness, the scruff on his chin and his hair at perfection like always. You hated the fact that he wasn't here. He wasn't here and even if he was here he'd treat you like a child.

Disturbingly it was Merle that treat you like a woman. He'd even let you have a beer or a smoke when no one was looking, and you missed that. You missed that a lot.

-

You squirmed in the backseat of Tallahassee's car, leaning into Wichita that wrapped her arm around you, placing a kiss on your forehead, before doing the same to her little sister, Little Rock.

"Wichita?" You whispered, the soft hum of the engine, almost lulling you back to sleep.  
"Yeah?" She says back. You could hear the smile in her tone, boosting your courage to speak what you felt. But, the coward in you shoved those words right back down, making a complete lie come out instead.  
"Nothin' I just... I miss home." You sighed. It wasn't exactly a lie. It was true. But it wasn't the thing on your mind.

"We all do." Columbus said, looking at you through the mirror. "Anyways, let's not be worrying about that right now. We should be celebrating your birthday! The big one six. The sweet sixteen. What do you want?"

'My birthday? It's not-- oh shit. It /was/ your birthday.'

A small groan escaped you as you pulled your blanket over your head. "A pony." You responded sarcastically, "Or a bike.... Or a slingbow."

\---

You should have known Wichita and Little Rock would have gotten you exactly what you wanted. There, right outside of your new base (a house in the middle of a quiet-ish area), two days later was a beautiful bike, (Harley Davidson Night Rod to be exact), and sitting right on the seat was a slingbow with bolts, sharpened rocks and other types of sling ammo.

"Happy late birthday!" The group cheered, causing you to laugh.  
"How?!" You asked, hurrying over to the bike, your fingers running over the frame.

"Eh, we foun' these two guys. They said they could set us up for a price. They weren't talkin' money. Probably want some weed or somethin', I dunno." Tallahassee shrugged, leaning against the doorframe of the house.

"Awe you guys." You squealed quietly with excitement. "Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome," Wichita told you softly. "Now you can go find that boyfriend of yours that you've been complaining about."

Your stomach dropped, "Pardon?"

"You know how to get gas, there's enough food and water in here to last you a while. Now go find your prince." Columbus said, handing you a backpack with a small smile.

"I-- he's not my--" You babbled, taking the bag, stunned that this was actually happening to you.

"Yet. But he will be. Now go," Wichita said with a soft smile, stepping forward to give you a hug. "The guys from the shady van said they sold a crossbow to a guy that matches his description. His brother and him were making their way up to Atlanta. Here's a Satellite Phone. Keep it on you at all times. If you need us, call us. Our number is in it. You will be fine. Don't panic. If you can't handle it, we'll come and get you." She spoke softly, running her fingers through your hair with a sisterly expression on her face.

You took a shaky breath, nodding and walking past her to get on your bike, putting the ammo in your pockets and placing the slingbow on your wrist. You swung your leg over and turned the key, the engine rumbling to life.

You pulled your bandana up over your face to cover your nose and mouth. You fixed your hair to keep it out of your face before giving your old group a nod.  
"I'll call you guys. Thank you so much." You told them great fully.

"Anything for you, Atlanta." She said with a tiny grin. "Remember speed dial is 904!"

You rolled your eyes, grinning lightly, "Yeah yeah, whatever."

You placed released your fingers from the break, took the map from your bag and drove off to find Daryl Dixon.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy and review! Please share too!

You ran as fast as your legs could carry you, weaving between poles of the park, jumping over benches. You tried anything to stop the hoard chasing you.

You had never done this sort of thing - okay, well, not since gym. You weren't the athletic type. You weren't into parkour, but you were goddamn glad that you learnt in school.

You scrambled on top of the first parked car on the freeway, catching your breath before you hopped onto the next, continuing back to the city of Atlanta. You could see the tall buildings in the distance. Skyscrapers to be exact. 

You had a sick feeling in your stomach, knowing that all the abandoned cars over here belonged to the people trying to escape this living hell.

Now, any person with a brain-- no, wrong word... Any person with common sense would be going in the opposite direction. But you, being a complete idiot, had gone rummaging through the cars for food and water. That's when the hoard was alerted. All you did was move around a little, and your elbow budged the steering wheel. And then before you knew it, you were jumping over the barriers between the roads, scrambling over fences and dodging corpses 'n all that jazz like some Olympic gymnast.

It felt like hours, but eventually you had lost them. You were sitting back on your bike with your resting bitch face, guzzling down the remainder of the water that you owned.

Of course, everything was peaceful... Until some dipshit in a cowboy hat rode down the road with his fucking horse and alerted the horse you had just shaken off.

You watched as the man galloped off as fast as he could, making you temporarily grimace at the thought of what the road was doing to the horses hooves and tendons. Yes, you were an animal lover. No, you didn't care that this was an apocalypse. You knew what was about to happen, and you closed your eyes, covering your ears.

You bit back the quiet whimper that you felt fighting to escape. Did the horse feel any pain? Was the man okay? - No. Fuck the man. He deserved to be eaten. The horse - holy fuck is that an army tank?!

You watched in fascination as the tank got surrounded, giving you enough time to shimmy past the hoard and down the alley to a safer place, ditching your bike. You knew you wouldn't be able to make it past them - past the hoard that almost got you half an hour before. You decided to watch from above.

The man, who had climbed into the tank around half an hour before, ran down the road when the hoard was focusing on gnawing on the horse. You winced at every bullet he sprayed, the loud echo ringing in your ears.

Soon, the loud bangs faded into silence, gradually being replaced by groans and hisses, and shoutings of a young man who seemed to be helping him up a ladder to the top.

_____

"All children, except one, grow up. They soon know that they will grow up, and the way Wendy knew was this. One day when she was two years old she was playing in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran with it to her mother. I suppose she must have looked rather delightful, for Mrs Darling put her hand to her heart and cried, 'Oh, why can't you remain like this for ever!' This was all that passed between them on the subject, but henceforth Wendy knew that she must grow up. You always know after you are two. Two is the beginning of the en-- what the fuck is that?!" You hissed to yourself through gritted teeth, standing up on the rooftop.

A siren - a car siren to be exact - blared through the city, bouncing off the walls. You watched as a bright red sports car whizzed by, soon followed by a van. Your stomach flipped with anxiety. You couldn't be abandoned, not again - even though you didn't know them. This group had so many possibilities. Plus, Daryl had been sighted near Atlanta. He could be with them!

You grabbed your things, hurrying towards the ladder, scrambling your way down and across the street to your bike. You turned on the engine, tying your [H/C] hair back before pulling up your bandana. Your bag was tightly attached to your back, the leather jacket you wore giving it more extra grip. 

You revved your engine before setting off, following the siren. You were on the freeway, now driving right beside the red car. Your hair blew back in the wind, and only your eyes could be seen as you honked your horn, signalling for a race. 

The kid - Chinese you assumed - had a wide grin on his face. From the sight of a woman, or because of the fact he had permission to drive recklessly without being arrested; you didn't know.

Eventually, you ended up behind him, due to the fact you were driving up a narrowed path. In the distance, behind the trees and clouds you could see a camp. There were lots of tents, a camper van and all sorts.

Your stomach did another flip. Of relief this time when you slowed down to a stop when you reached the camp.

There were lots of women and children. They were clearly families, and that relaxed you.

"Glenn," The Chinese kid introduced. You were still slightly breathless from the race. It was hard to get in oxygen when it's being forced at you over 200 miles per hour.  
"Atlanta." You responded curtly as you shook his hand, your defences up big time. Your [E/C] eyes could only just be seen over the bandana covering your nose and mouth.

The sun was setting by then, and you could hear the man advising the guy from the tank not to dwell on something.   
"Nobody's gonna be sad that he didn't come back...except, maybe Daryl."

'Daryl?' You thought, perking up a bit, looking over to the man with dark skin. His head was black and curly, he also had a beard. He was standing with his wife, daughter and son. You later discovered the man was called Morales.

"Is she okay? Why isn't she with you?" A woman asked frantically as the man beside her, Jim, disabled the alarm.  
"She's okay!" Glenn shouted over her, "Everybody is! Well, Merle not so much!"

Shane scoffed slightly, ignoring the fact that Merle, your only surviving family, that you know, could be dead.

The cube van arrived, and Morales tells Rick and you to come meet everyone. Rick looked exhausted, and distracted, however he followed behind you and the man.

The blonde woman who was scared earlier hugged the other blonde woman. They must be sisters. Andrea and Amy you assumed. 

Morales and his family reunited too - but that's not what got to you - what got to you was the boy and woman crying as they hugged Rick.

"Mum said you died." Carl whispered to him, sobbing, as was the woman. That must be Lori.

Nearby, a large man, who seemed rather petrifying, and another man who was earlier seen with Lori, exchanged some harsh words. The tiny mousy woman and her daughter huddled together, removing the log from the flame as Shane returned to the groups fire.

You were sat on the log beside Glenn, chewing on your lower lip whilst you listened in on Dale asking the group what they should tell Daryl about his brother.

"Merle was out of control and the only person to blame for getting left behind was Merle." Andrea told him, who soon sighs heavily as she reasoned with him.  
"Word to the wise: we're gonna have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt."

Rick volentreers to deliver the news, as does T-Dog, still feeling back for dropping the key. He tells everyone that he stopped to chain the stairwell door before he ran for the van.

"Dixon's alive, and he's still up there." He says, "That's on us."

__

The soft whisper of people talking, caught your attention. You were sitting up in a tree near the camp. There was a scream, followed by the words: "This is the first one we've had up here. They never come this far up the mountain,"

"They're running out of food in the city, that's what," Jim offered, looking around sharply when the bushes rustled.

Shane, the man who clearly had eyes and a boner for Lori, raised his gun protectively.

A man in a sleeveless t-shirt emerged from the trees. The sight of Daryl almost took your breath away. You climbed down from the tree, your bag and slingbow carefully attached to you.

Carrying his crossbow and hauling over a dozen dead squirrels, he looked clearly upset. "Zombie got your deer?" You chimed in a mischievous taunting tone, receiving warning glances and glares from the group.

Daryl looked over his shoulder sharply, "I ain't even gonna ask." He grunted quietly, the group most likely assuming that he's not going to ask why there are two new people in the group. The man nodded in conformation. "Been tracking it for miles. Foods been wasted. Fuckin' stupid--" He growled, kicking at the headless corpse.

"Lashing out isn't going to solve anything," Dale said, trying to calm the redneck down, which caused Daryl to lash out at him.

The walkers head began to hiss and growl, grinding and snapping his teeth. The sisters who had been watching near by, grimaced, shuffling off in disgust as Daryl shot a crossbow bolt into the skull, "Come on people, what the hell? It's gotta be the brain - don't y'all know nothin'?" He rebuked, heading off into the camp to look for Merle.

Before you knew it, fists were flying, sleeper holds were being held and the words, "Choke holdin's illegal!" Were being gasped out breathlessly by Daryl.  
"Yeah, well, you can file a complaint." Shane grunted with a shrug.

"Look, I just want to have a calm discussion about Merle." Rick said calmly before explaining what he did wasn't on a whim, as Shane released his hold. "Your brother does not work and play nice with others," He explained.

You snorted, crossing your arms with a bitter look. "You can say that again. That bastard ditched me on the side of the road in the middle of no where!"

"You know him?" T-Dog asked in surprise.  
"Since birth." You responded, "He's like family."  
"Then why didn't you say anything last night?!" Lori exclaimed in horror, covering her mouth receiving a shrug and no comment. 

"It's my fault alright? I accidentally dropped the key in the drain. I chained the door to the roof shut so the 'geeks' couldn't get at him." T-Dog cut in, looking at Daryl.

"Just tell me where he is, so I can go get him," Daryl ordered.  
Lori cut in from the door of the RV, looking to Rick and staring him down, "You'll show him, isn't that right?" she challenged, watching her nodding husband.  
"I'm going back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Six is almost done :) I've decided I'm going to do episode by episode. I know this one is a little shitty and it seems rushed, but the next isn't, I promise. This chapter was more about seeing Daryl again and getting to know the group. The next is going to show the true feelings of the apocalypse, and it's going to be more slower and detailed. My goal is going to be 2k words a chapter from now on.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter minorly edited.
> 
> Please share and maybe leave a comment. Please give Kudos. Knowing you guys are reading gives me reason and encouragement to continue and update :)

You never thought you'd live to see the day where Daryl fucking Dixon would be saving your life and holding you protectively. Of course, it wasn't like a fairy tale. It was like a bloodbath. Eight people died.

The day started out rather nicely. Andrea and Amy were sitting in a canoe on the quarry lake, fishing. Amy was holding an umbrella, protecting her light skin from the sun. You could tell they were arguing over something, but you could also see that it wasn't a serious one. They looked sad, as if they were remembering about their lives before the apocalypse.

You stood from the grass, stretching your legs and brushing down the jeans that you wore. Your hair was in a ponytail to keep it out of your face, and you were wearing a black shirt.

You marched your way up the hill towards Dale, who was keeping watch. "What ya doin'?" You chimed in a happy tone, looking up to the hold man who was watching something through his binoculars.

"Watching Jim," He said carefully, sipping from his flask. With your hand blocking your eyes from the sun, you sat down in the camping chair, smiling lightly.  
"Why're you watching Jim? Is he doing something funny?" You asked with genuine childish innocence.  
"Nope. He's digging holes."

You wrinkled your nose, standing abruptly and walking over to the ladder, making your way up. "Gimme that." You said with skepticism.

You placed the binoculars to your eyes, searching quickly for said man. It didn't take long before you found him.

There he was, digging one, two... Three... Too many holes. You couldn't be bothered to count. "He might be planning a mass murder," You commented critically, leaning forward a little for a better look. "Does six holes class as a mass murder?"  
_

Even though you had only known these people for just over a day, everyone felt like a friend. You felt genuine concern for Jim. "Cmon, let's go." You told Dale, looking up to him.

"No no, you stay here, Missy. I'll go check up on him. You go back to the lake and help the ladies, alright?"

Damn. Just when you thought there was gonna be a bit of entertainment around here.

Grudgingly, you grunted out a response to the elder.

You stuffed your hands in the pockets of your jeans. The same jeans you had been wearing at the start of the apocalypse.

You had lost a lot of weight since the beginning. You guess it had been all the running... And the part where you had spent most of the time starving. But now you had your trusty Da-- ugh.

No. Don't go there. You can't miss him. Not now. Not ever. You know he might not come back. Everyone might not. You have to trust him - Rick, Glenn, everyone else - to protect your Daryl. Wait - no, not your Daryl. Just Daryl. He's not yours. You don't own him... But if you did... Your lips twitched slightly into a smirk, your fingers touching your lower lip as you stared into the river where the sisters were fishing.

You couldn't let Daryl know you loved him. Not yet. He still thought of you like a kid. He was like... what, 39? 40? Okay, maybe a bit younger... 36 at least - but still, you were barely legal. Daryl would be repulsed by you. Anyways, you don't even know if it's love. It's probably just a crush - like the one you had on that Chloe girl two years ago.

A sad frown appeared on your now slightly tanning face. The thought of being alone again, in this world full of people wanting you dead was painful. You couldn't be alone... Not again - and the possibility of Daryl dying today... It made your heartache.

Fuck, Daryl. Don't you dare leave me again.

-

A soft sigh escaped your light rose coloured lips as you made your way down the grass hill, flopping onto the grass when you got to the ladies doing the washing.

You got a few glances, but no greeting. Great. They thought you were a Dixon.

"Afternoon." You told them politely, glancing towards the women, shielding your eyes from the sun. "Having an alright day?"

Ugh! No! Of course they weren't! It was the apocalypse!

"I mean-- other than dead people rising... Has it been okay? Do you need help with anything? Want a drink? Are you hungry?" You babbled, cringing lightly at the sound of your idiotic words.

"We're alright, Hun. Thanks for asking though," Carol responded with a tight smile, keeping her eyes on her hands as she scrubbed away.

"I wouldn't mind some water..." The cops wife told you. Linda... Lisa...? You couldn't remember her name.  
Scrambling to your feet, you nodded rapidly, about to make your way towards the van again, always hoping to impress.

"You're awfully eager to help," The dark haired woman commented - Lori, as you just remembered.

You shrugged, now shy at the observation.

"I just don't want to get shot and be killed... Damn I shouldn't have even offered." You thought, not daring to respond to her comment in any snarky manner.

"It's hot out here... I don't want you guys to get heatstroke." You mumbled shyly, your hand reaching up and scratching the back of your neck.

"Well, that's awfully sweet of you... Y/N right?-" You boxed "Thought so... How do you know Merle and Daryl?" Lori asked curiously. That question received a few glances from the others, who then went on to act as if they weren't listening, even though they clearly were.

Women and their stupid gossip.

"My dad was Merle's gynaecologist slash drug dealer slash boss. When mum and dad used to smuggle drugs across the boarders I stayed with Daryl and Merle." You lied, sort of. Your dad was their boss technically, but they didn't need to know that.

"Gynaecologist?" Carol giggled awkwardly and with semi-disbelief.

"Mhm! But don't tell anyone that. I wouldn't want Merle getting mad at me." You sighed lightly, looking to Lori again as you walked away. "Water wasn't it?"

\--  
"Gynaecologist?" One of the women whispered.

Hah... That'll teach him not to abandon me!  
\--

You didn't get Lori her water. You forgot - or so you'd say. You hoped Carol would take the offer... You liked her. Lori, however, you found manipulative and two faced. Yeah you had only known her for, like, ten hours, but that was just how you felt about her. Plus the way she looked at her husbands friend when she thought no one was looking.

It made you feel slightly suspicious - but what made you feel even more suspicious was Jim digging up in view of the scorching hot sun.

"Jim?" You asked softly, cautiously approaching him. "Jim, mate? Are you thirsty? Do you need anythi- Ah!" You squealed as someone grabbed your arm. You flung round, about to attack, relaxing as soon as you realised it was Shane, the cop - Rick's best friend, the one you were convinced Lori was sleeping with.

Shane pulled you back protectively, a stern, yet concerned look on his face. You hadn't realised that pretty much half the camp had followed you up here.

The grip on your arm was like a vice. You were sure it was going to bruise - but now wasn't the time for complaining, you needed to know that Jim was okay.

You watched as Carol told the man that he was scaring her daughter, and the other children. You watched as Jim threw a few slaps - and told everyone that he had a dream, but he didn't remember it.

It was as if he was in a trance. Fuck, what if there was more to this apocalypse than just the zombies?! No, no, Y/N, calm down... He's got heat stroke.

You let out a heavy sigh as that guy Shane dragged you away.

"You're hurting me." You growled out through gritted teeth.  
"Yeah? Well you're in the way." Shane replied snarkily.

Wasn't Shane the one that beat up Carol's husband? Man, he better not beat up me.

"No, seriously, stop you're really hurting me! I said stop!" You shouted, now struggling and accidentally getting more attention than you wanted. You squirmed and wriggled, trying to get away from the guy. Unfortunately, your red and white shirt had short sleeves, making the hand mark that would be there ten times worse.

"Look, I don't know who you are, I don't care if Merle's your dad and fuckin' Daryl's your brother. You can't come in here and act as if you're queen bee and care about everyone all of a sudden. Now step away and let me-" Slap.

Shit.

Your hand had flung up so fast and whacked him over the cheek before you could even think. At least it got his hand off you.

"Okay first off, Daryl and Merle aren't my family! They raised me though but I am nothing like them! Of course I care! He's a person! And third, don't you ever lay a hand on me again!" You exclaimed, the red mark on your arm starting to bruise already. "Do you do this to all kids? Or is it just me because I'm new?" Your voice started to break, and soon came the angry tears. Which worsened when you got roughly pushed against the tree, the bark scraping your back, causing it to burn.

"And don't you ever lay a hand on me." He hissed back, squaring up to you, his voice low and dangerous. "This'll forever be the last time I'll let you Dixon's do shit like this."

"Man... Bullying a kid because of their name. That's slightly racist. Now I know why Merle calls you guys pigs. Thank god Rick ain't like you." You retorted with a scoff as you walked away.

Luckily, Shane received a few glares, sadly, no one but Carol gave you a sympathetic look. She must know how you felt... Being hurt by a man twice your size. It's a shame she didn't have the guts to fight back - or should I say, have the death wish to fight back.

This'll be forever the last time you allow someone to hurt you. To make you feel so small and worthless. You had to change, and fast.

__

You walked past the whole group, holding your head high, before making your way down the hill and through the bushes to a lake.

You felt dirty... Tainted and just plain disgusting. You felt as if everyone was out to get you. Your arm hurt, you were starving, possibly going to be murdered by that Jim guy that you weren't allowed to comfort. Everything sucked.

You kicked off your boots, your jeans, your shirt and bra, just leaving on your knickers. No one was around, not even the sisters that were fishing earlier.

You climbed into the cool lake, breathing a sigh of relief to find something cold enough to resolve the burning of rage that your body was feeling.

You swam far enough out so you could just float and relax, but you were close enough so if something did happen, you could be saved - preferably by Carol and not that douche bag - but knowing your luck it would be him.

You washed yourself thoroughly, hoping to get rid of the dirty feeling. You then soaked your hair, before swimming to shore and brushing out all the knots, before braiding it all. It was scruffy and done with clear anger, but it was enough to keep out of the way. And if you were lucky enough, it'd dread and you'd never have to suffer brushing your hair again.

__

Getting dressed and making your way back to camp was probably the easiest thing to do today. You didn't have to greet anyone, you wore the hand mark with pride, and hope that Shane would beat the shit out of Daryl, which would probably not happen... But a girl can hope!

With your newly braided hair tied back into a pony tail, you went into your tent, looking for a new shirt that you could rip up and customise.

That's when it happened.

It all started with a scream - a mans one - and then there were more screams, the sound of flesh ripping, gurgling, sobbing. You knew what was happening. Zombies -- or Walkers as the camp call it, got in.

There was gun fire, vehicles approaching, followed by more shouting from people looking for their family members.

You did what anyone without a brain would do - you got out of your tent, in hope to fight.

You looked around quickly for your slingbow. Fuck, you must have left it by the river!

You grabbed the nearest thing beside you... Merle's pistol. The one with a single bullet in that you wanted to save. You weren't gonna pull the trigger - you didn't know how to shoot. But you could always pound a bitches head in.

Grabbing the gun, you flew across camp, ducking and dodging whatever walkers came your way.

Adrenaline was pulsing through your body, with fear very close behind.

You covered your mouth, trying to breathe quietly so a walker wouldn't come and find you.

That's when the second event of the night happened.

Daryl fucking Dixon saved your butt.

In the panic of the camp being over run, and trying to find somewhere to hide, you didn't notice a walker sneaking up behind you... Until a crossbow bolt flew inches from your head, and a loud thud could be heard behind you.

You didn't dare turn to look, you just ran. You ran as fast as you could to the man you knew who would come back and save you.

Within seconds, the camp went from sounding like a battle field to silence. There was quiet sobbing, but there was no gunshots.

An arm awkwardly snaked around your waist, pulling you closer. You knew Daryl didn't hug, he didn't do anything of that sort, so you felt blessed to have him do this.

That's when the tears came. Sadly, for you, once it starts it never stops.

You clung onto the redneck for dear life, your face buried in his chest, your fingers gripping onto his shirt.

You weren't mourning, you were in shock and scared, and he knew that.

Daryl held you for a good two minutes before awkwardly letting go with a grunt. You wiped your face before looking up at him with a nod of appreciation.

"I remember my dream now."

 


	7. Chapter 7 - The Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random chapter - not important, feel free to skip.

...That wasn't awkward at all.

___

The soft hum of Daryl's bike made you sleepy. You had your arms wrapped around his waist tightly, your head rested between his shoulder blades. Since the start of the apocalypse, you could almost sleep through anything; but unfortunately, you couldn't this time.

You had no clue where you were going, however you knew better than to ask.

"Dont you listen at all?" He called to you, the sound of his accent - the thing you loved oh so much, ripped you out of your thoughts.

The answer, which should have been obvious to him, was clearly no. No you weren't listening. You were too engrossed in whatever the hell this was that was drifting through your mind. 

The dream.  
Your parents.  
Your pet.  
Him.  
Home.  
And how he let Merle abandon you and leave you for dead.

Sure, he gave you a weapon, but still. You were... Wait. How long had it been since the start of all this? Had it been a year? Had it only been a few months? Surely someone was keeping track.

You shook your head with a sigh. 

This was the apocalypse. Age didn't matter.

Everyone is food.

Everyone is family.

Until someone snaps.

And you don't know when that will be.


	8. Wildfire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry for my absence, I hope to be back now for good. However some times it will take me a long time to write a chapter as I'm currently studying psychology so that's what my mind is focusing on right now. 
> 
> As you can probably tell after reading this, my style has changed and the chapters are longer, and I hope you guys like this. I've done some replotting and rearranging, and I've now got a goal, so hopefully this won't be such a mess anymore! There might be some inconsistency in the future to do with previous chapters and I apologise for that.
> 
> I also apologise for typos as I've written this on my phone and skimmed it for any. However if I've missed some, please point it out and I'll correct it. Thank you so much for reading, I'm super grateful <3
> 
> -Billie

The morning after the blood bath at the camp was awfully quiet. To the point of it it feeling like a horror movie.

Rick was off somewhere, probably up at the hill everyone likes - the one that lets you see the sunrise over Atlanta; Andrea was still cradling Amy's corpse which was probably about to reanimate and bite her face off, hence why you were safely out of reach, I.e standing on top of the RV, listening to Lori try and comfort the blonde as well as convince her to let them "take" Amy.

"We'll be gentle as we can." Lori told her softly, looking up as she heard another thwack. Lori knew it was only Daryl hitting the walkers with a pickaxe, but she also knew you can never be too careful.

_Thud._  
_Sizzle._  
_Another body in the fire._

You wiped your face on the hem of your shirt, before letting it drop down again. Even though you had been in America for a long time, the heat was still something you had yet to get used to.

You lightly unscrewed the cap on your bottle, before taking a sip and putting the cap back on, and then climbing down to a hopefully not yet reanimated Amy and a bitten Andrea.

A small look or pity flickered across your face as you watched Lori walk away to her husband and his friend Shane, her attempt to coax Andrea away obviously unsuccessful.

You made your way into the RV, sitting down on the soft couch, letting out a small sigh of relief as you soaked up the cool shade.

The sound of voices caught you attention, but you tried not to pay much mind to it. You closed your eyes, resting your head back on the wall.

 _Click_  
"I know how the safety works."

Your eyes widened, only just making out the muffled voice. Your head peeped up, slowly opening the net of the RV. Down below, you could only just see a gun pointed at Rick, and then see him slowly retreat.

You had to know what's going on.

* * *

"Hell I could get a turkey between the eyes at this distance." You heard Daryl say, after him telling them to just take the shot.

You narrowed your eyes slightly, not saying a word as you sat down on one of the logs - and in a blink of an eye, everyone departed.

Then Daryl was yelling.

And then someone was shouting a walker bit Jim.

And then more yelling.

What the hell was going on?!

"I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay!" Jim told them as Daryl lifted his shirt, revealing a deep wound on his abdomen, "I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay."

And then they all departed.

Everything was giving you whiplash. It was like a herd of Zebras, running back and fourth, dodging the Lioness and the Lion as they hunted for food for their Cubs, and all the Zebras wanted to do was get to the nearest lake for water - or better yet, it was like everyone was dancing. In out. In out. Shake it all about.

* * *

"I say we put a pickaxe in his head and the dead girl's and be done with it." Daryl announced, his voice sounding like he was ready to start pacing anxiously. You could tell he was scared, but most people would probably just assume he was being a douche. You walked over to him, gently touching his arm as if to say ' _Calm down_.'

"Is that what you'd want if it were you?" Shane challenged, looking to the other guys in the circle, as well as Lori and Jacqui, even though he was addressing it to Daryl.  
"Yeah, and I'd thank you while you did it." He responded in a matter-of-fact tone.

"I hate to say it... I never thought I would... but maybe Daryl's right." Dale spoke up, looking to the others in a rather hesitant manner, his eyes kind yet sad. He looked completely heart broken.  
"Jim's not a monster, Dale, or some rabid dog." Rick argued back in the same tone as Shane. You could tell these two had spent a lot of time together. They had the same body language... But Rick didn't give you the creeps.

"I'm not suggesting..."  
"He's sick. A sick man. We start down that road, where do we draw the line?"

"The line's pretty clear. Zero tolerance for walkers, or them to be." Daryl spoke up.  
"What if we can get him help? I heard the C.D.C. was working on a cure." Rick countered, obviously starting to grow frustrated.

"I heard that too. Heard a lot of things before the world went to hell." Shame agreed, nodding towards his brother from another mother.

"What if the C.D.C. is still up and running?" Rick told Shane, who scoffed in return.

"Man, that is a stretch right there."  
"Why? If there's any government left, any structure at all, they'd protect the C.D.C. at all costs, wouldn't they? I think it's our best shot. Shelter, protection..."  
"Okay, Rick, you want those things, all right? I do too, okay? Now if they exist, they're at the army base. Fort Benning."

"That's 100 miles in the opposite direction!" Lori exclaimed in genuine disbelief.

"That is right. But it's away from the hot zone. Now listen to me. If that place is operational, it'll be heavily armed. We'd be safe there." Shane persuaded, his voice going softer as he spoke to Lori. It made you narrow your eyes on suspicion.

"The military were on the front lines of this thing. They got overrun. We've all seen that. The C.D.C. is our best choice and Jim's only chance." Rick replied, only to be interrupted by Daryl who began to walk away.

"You go looking for aspirin, do what you need to do. Someone needs to have some balls to take care of this damn problem!" He growled, shoving away your arm that had made its way looped around his. He raised the pickaxe, causing your eyes to widen.

He was going to do it.  
He was about to take a swing at Jim.  
He was about to kill.

"Daryl no!" You warned in a raised voice, almost a shout. You were about to run to him, to stop him. But you were held back by familiar motherly arms. Lori and Carol.

"Hey hey hey!" Shane yelled, running in front of Daryl, raising his hands as if he was going to block the axe from hitting the cowering Jim.

Rick's gun immediately came out, and with a small click, it was aimed at Daryl's head.

"We don't kill the living." Rick explained, his voice gruff with anger, yet soft in a scary sort of way.

"That's funny coming from a man who just put a gun to my head." Daryl snarked, his eyes still pinned on the prey... Pinned on Jim.

"We may disagree on some things, not on this. You put it down. Go on." Shane threatened quietly, almost breathing a sigh of relief as Daryl practically throws down the axe before marching away.

"Come with me." Rick commands Jim.  
"Where are you taking me?" He asked.  
"Somewhere safe."

* * *

You followed your surrogate mother, almost like a lost sheep. It pained you to see her this way. You knew where she was going. She was going to her husbands body... The one Daryl was just about to whack with his mighty pickaxe that has been bathed in much blood today.

"I'll do it." She said, looking down to Ed who lay on the floor.

You grimaced at the sight, but you didn't say anything. You merely walked over to Daryl and did the one thing he hated the most. You wrapped your arms around his waist and cuddled in close. He never hugged you back, but you didn't care. He went ridged, and grimaced as Carol began to mutilate her husbands body, crying as she did so.

You assumed it wasn't out of mourning, but out of Anger. Fury. Hatred. Loathing.

* * *

After helping Daryl place the bodies onto the truck, you both had some time to relax before the funerals.

"So tell me... Why d'ya have a slingshot as a weapon?" Daryl asked as you climbed into the passenger seat on the truck.

You shrugged, closing the door before resting your head back against the seat. You were still mad at him, sort of. But the anger only came back when you two were alone.

"Looked cool. Now that I've answered a question, why don't you answer one of mine?"  
"Shoot." He nodded, starting to slouch in his own seat.

"Why did you let Merle leave me for dead?"

"You don' know what happened in that car, Y/N. I tried to get him to come back. I even looked for ya, but I couldn't find ya. We assumed you were dead." He confessed, turning on the engine. "I was kinda shocked to see ya alive. Almost glad. You got some fight in ya, kid. You could go places. But ya need a better weapon. That rubber band ain't gonna do nothin' for ya."

"It's done me good so far." You frowned, "I don't--"  
"Luck. It must'a been only luck, cause I ain't seen no one with an elastic band kill a damn walker. When we go on the next supply run I'll bring you along and we can find ya a decent weapon. Not a bow though, cause that's my thing." He joked, "How bout a sniper?"

You looked at him, shocked that he was even letting you have a weapon. He almost always kept you away from them until you were ditched on the side of the road.

"Out of the way, out of sight." You nodded, considering it. "But noisy... It'll attract more walkers than I can kill."

"Nah, I got someone in mind that can teach ya. I don' know if they're still around though." Daryl told him, sounding a little bitter. "After we're done with this shit we can go askin' around for them."

"I hope his name isn't John or something, cause lots of people know a John." You chuckled lightly, only to be cut off by a snort.

"Nah, he ain't called John. He's called 10K."

"..." You blinked slowly before narrowing your eyes, "10K? As in Ten Thousand? Or... Or is he some black dude and that's his street name?"

"10K as in Ten Thousand kills... He wants to get ten thousand and then he'll change his name." Daryl muttered as he drove up the bumpy hill, carefully staying on the track.

"You sound rather bitter about him... Is he your ex or something?" You teased, a small grin on your lips - that soon faltered when he didn't reply.

Daryl merely looked ahead, as you watched him critically. He climbed out of the truck, closing the door behind him.

* * *

****The funeral was something you hoped you'd never see again. It was full of tears from everyone. Even you shed a few. You had stood next to Lori and Carl, whilst Daryl was off doing whatever it was. You didn't see him in the crowd, but then again, you didn't expect to. He wasn't the sort to attend these sort of things unless he had to.

At the nightly gathering around the camp fire, you were sat with Carl, quietly chatting amongst yourselves when Shane spoke up, returning from whatever he and Rick were doing. Dale was with them. You assumed he went off to find them, or to use the toilet.

"I've been, uh… I've been thinking about Rick's plan. Now look, there are no… There are no guarantees either way. I'll be the first one to admit that. I've known this man a long time. I trust his instincts. I say the most important thing here is we need to stay together. So those of you that agree, we leave first thing in the morning." Shane announced, much to your surprise.

* * *

 

The next morning, was very much like the others. You ate what you could find, mostly wild fruit and the occasional left overs from the night before. Rick was off doing whatever he usually did on the " _Sunrise hill_ " as you called it.

You were sat with Daryl after packing up all your things. You refused to think about the dream you had the night before - about him and you and...

"Everybody listen up. Those of you with C.B.s, we're gonna be on channel 40. Let's keep the chatter down, okay? Now you got a problem, don't have a C.B., can't get a signal or anything at all, you're gonna hit your horn one time. That'll stop the caravan. Any questions?" Shane spoke, loud so everyone could hear. The cars were all set, everyone's stuff in the backs.

Daryl's bike was on the back of his truck, you assumed you were riding with him, but you could be wrong.

You weren't exactly surprised that Miranda and Morales and the kids were going their own way. If you honestly had a choice, and Daryl wasn't with you, you'd probably leave too.

You have him a small elbow in the ribs as you watched his disapproval as they handed over a gun and some ammo to the small family.  
He noticed your annoyance at his behaviour, but he didn't say anything.

The goodbyes were emotional for you and the rest of the camp. You have the two kids a hug, as well as Miranda and Morales. You reached into your bag, pulling out your slingshot.

"Uh, I know this... This probably won't do much, but it's good for long range and silence. It's kind of my lucky weapon." You told the two adults, "I've modified it and it's gotten me a good few kills. There's the aim sight here. When the target is in the little circle, release and it should do its job. I recommend sharp stones and metal like can lids." You told them quietly, passing it over. "Good luck."

You never did give them a chance to say goodbye, and you didn't look back. You didn't want to. Goodbyes now days meant you were never going to see them again, and you didn't want to jinx them.

* * *

You rode in Daryl's truck, his bike on the back. You were glad you were finally getting somewhere... And then the RV broke down.

 _Typical_.

"I told you we'd never get far on that hose. I said I needed the one from the cube van." Dale told Rick, who scratched the back of his neck with stress.

"Can you jury-rig it?"

"That's all it's been so far. It's more duct tape than hose. And I'm out of duct tape." Dale told him, shaking his head.

"I see something up ahead. A gas station if we're lucky." Shane announced, looking through his binoculars.

"Y'all, Jim… It's bad. I don't think he can take anymore." Jacqui announced, causing you to sigh lightly as she went back into the RV

Couldn't this day get any worse?!

"Hey, Rick, you want to hold down the fort? I'll drive ahead, see what I can bring back." Shane offered, causing T-Dog to volunteer himself.

"Yeah, I'll come along too and I'll back you up."  
"Y'all keep your eyes open now. We'll be right back."

You looked up to Daryl, who looked just as lost as you felt. You gave him a gentle poke, hoping to cheer him up.  
"Come on, let's get some shelter." You told him gently, before dragging him off.

Saying goodbye to Jim was probably the worst out of all your goodbyes. Because you had to say goodbye. He was dying, and everyone knew it. Even he knew it.

There were hugs, there were tears, there were small sobs as everyone tried to stay quiet.

Rick had offered a gun, but Jim refused to take it.

Even Daryl had said goodbye... In his own way.

He nodded to him. Once. Even you never got a nod. It was only you that did the talking, and you occasionally got a response.

You gave Jim a gentle hug before scurrying away to follow Daryl.

You didn't know how long it took for Jim to die, but you hoped it was quick. That man had been through so much... You didn't want him to suffer anymore.

* * *

The RV arrived outside of the compound a few hours later. The sky was slowly getting dark, but it was still light enough for you to see the scattered corpses.

The flies buzzed around your head, causing you to waft them away with your free hand as you tightly gripped the kitchen knife in the other as you and the group quietly approached the building.

"All right, everybody. Keep moving. Go on. Stay quiet. Let's go. Okay, keep moving. Stay together." Shane hushed as everyone coughed and spluttered.

"Keep moving. Come on." Rick coaxed, keeping as close as he could to Lori and Carl, but ahead enough to protect everyone.

"Shh." Jacqui hushed.  
"Carol." Lori whispered.  
"Shh!" Shane hissed.  
"Oh, God." Glenn groaned with nausea.

Eventually you all reached the building. You eyed the door, which was locked and shuttered, before looking up to Daryl. He noticed the helpless look in your eyes, and gave you a gentle nudge, as if to say 'It'll be okay'.

"Keep it together. Come on." Shane grumbled, as you all finally reached the building.

"Nothing?" He asked Rick who gave a strong tug at the shutters, before pounding on them himself.

"There's nobody here." T-Dog sighed, obviously ready to give up.

"Then why are these shutters down?" Rick countered, only to be cut off by Daryl.

"Walkers!" He warned, beginning to pace, getting ready to shoot with his crossbow.

"Baby, come on." Lori told Rick, coming closer to him.

Daryl shoots the walker in the head.

"You led us into a graveyard!" Daryl accused as he shot the walker in the head, hardly listening to Shane's reply.

"He made a call."  
"It was the wrong damn call!"  
"Just shut up. You hear? Shut up. Shut up! Rick, this is a dead end."

"Where are we gonna go?" Jacqui asked, sounding just as helpless as T-Dog did.

"Do you hear me? No blame." Shane continued, all their voices starting to grow louder.

"She's right. We can't be here, this close to the city after dark." Lori told them all, keeping her motherly calm as Carol held onto the children, trying to keep them quiet.

"Fort Benning, Rick… Still an option." Shane announced.  
"On what? No food, no fuel. That's 100 miles." Andrea scoffed.  
"125. I checked the map." Glenn replied hesitantly.

"Forget Fort Benning. We need answers tonight, now." Lori said firmly.  
"We'll think of something." Rick told her.

"Come on, let's go. Let's get out of here. Let's go. Please." Shane said, starting to sound extremely anxious, giving Rick a gentle tug.

You looked to Daryl, gently taking the gun from him before walking off ahead, not saying a word.

"All right, everybody back to the cars. Let's go. Move." Shane sighed, as if herding cattle.

"The camera… it moved." Rick announced suddenly.

"You imagined it." Shane responded, only briefly glancing to him.

"It moved. It moved."  
"Rick, it is dead, man. It's an automated device. It's gears, okay? They're just winding down. Now come on. Man, just listen to me. Look around this place. It's dead, okay? It's dead. You need to let it go, Rick."

Rick's fists on the shutters made you jump. You turned around, watching the scene unfold in front of you. The banging on the metal, and the shouting voices almost hurt your ears - in fact it did. But there was one sound you heard the most, and that was the dead walking towards you all.

"Rick, there's nobody here!" Lori explained in a raised voice.  
"I know you're in there. I know you can hear me!"

"Everybody get back to the cars now!" Shane yelled as he attempted to drag Rick away with the help of Lori. You looked to Daryl, as if asking if that was what you were supposed to do. Needless to say, this trip drop kicked your trust for Rick and Shane.

"Please, we're desperate. Please help us. We have women, children, no food, hardly any gas left."  
"Rick. There's nobody here."  
"We have nowhere else to go."

"Keep your eyes open. If you don't let us in, you're killing us! Please!" Rick pleaded as he pounded on the door.  
"Come on, buddy, let's go. Let's go."  
"Please help us. You're killing us! You're killing us! You're killing us!"

The group is just about to leave when the door to the CDC opens, drowning the survivors in light.

You were just about to leave... And then the door began to raise, the light illuminating you all, like a UFO beam.


	9. Origins

******_64 days earlier_ **

You close your eyes, letting out a tiny puff of breath as you listen your father pack your bags into the car whilst you sat in your bedroom.

You were on your way to the Dixon's.

You had met them many times before, and you adored them. They were like family. You regularly stayed with them when you were allowed to visit with your dad, but this time was the first time you were ever going to be alone. It was sad that it was under these circumstances, but you could understand why your parents chose them to be your protection.

They were brutal and extremely protective, even if they hardly spoke to you. Well, Daryl anyways. Merle treated you like his own, and sometimes people even thought you were his kid! Apparently you had his chin and ears, which you thought was kind of funny.

Being with the Dixon's made you happy, you loved riding on their bikes and messing around in the forest near by, but what you didn't like was leaving your loved ones behind.

Usually you were only over there for a few months a year at most, meaning you were in London the rest of your time, so you wouldn't get that homesick, but for some reason you knew this was going to be longer, meaning you wouldn't be home for your 13th birthday.

And you also wouldn't be home for your dog. Sure, it was just a dog, however you two had a connection no one could explain. He was originally your fathers dog, but when you first met the puppy you both couldn't leave each other alone. He slowly became your dog when you grew up... but unfortunately he was already trained so you couldn't change his name. The poor German Shepherd was stuck with the name Dogmeat, named after the one from your dads favourite video game Fallout 3.

You brushed your hair from your face, tying it into a ponytail before looking down at the dog, gently running your fingers through his fur, whispering to him quietly as if he'd understand, "- and protect mum and dad for me... and the house until I come back... and please don't poop or pee in the house... and... and if they go, can you please come and find me if I don't return? I don't wanna be alone." You confessed to him, now laying down on your side and continuing to babble, "I think I'll be back though, because dad said I won't be gone for long. We're going to Canada to get the maple syrup because on the news it said people in Canada aren't turning. Apparently it's got something in it that's preventing this illness?"

A small sigh escaped your lips as you thought back to the moment you found out about what was going on.

Londoners were the last to react, because, well, it's no secret that people in London don't give a shit. In fact, a week in and things are still pretty much going okay. The powers still working and the deaths were pretty minimal, but over the last few days the violence and number of zombies slipping through the barriers protecting the city were rising rapidly.

Your parents knew today was the last chance to get you to safety, and if that meant lying about your return then so be it. The Dixon's were going to Canada to get the syrup anyway, and bringing you with them would be no trouble, they said that themselves. Your parents and the brothers had planned this since the second day of the apocalypse, mostly because America had firearms, which England did not.

However, you were oblivious to all of this and pretty much thought you were going on a short trip. You knew that your parents might not survive, but you always thought that when you went away. You were a very anxious child. You always fretted, even if you were just staying at home and going to bed. 'What if the house burns down?' 'What if mum and dad die in their sleep?' were regular thoughts of yours.

You grumbled quietly as you heard your dad toot the horn of the car. It was time. You were going to be dropped off at the airport, say goodbye to your mum and dad, and then you would board the plane and arrive in America. Or, well, you hoped you'd arrive. You hated flying, and you hated the possibility of not making it. You didn't trust technology very much.

The ride to the airport was probably one of the worst experiences of your life. The anxiety, the paranoia, the sadness of having to leave your family behind. Especially your mother. You had a feeling in your gut that you weren't gonna come home. In fact it wasn't even a feeling, because you _knew_ it. Why would your mother be crying and telling you how much she loved you if it was just only for a few days? A week or maybe a month tops?

A small sigh escaped your lips as you climbed out of the car when you arrived. It was extremely busy, people hurrying in and out, the buzz of fear like electric in the air.

There was military surrounding Heathrow. Soldiers with their guns drawn, scanning the area and checking those that entered and exited.

You accepted the body check and the rapid fire questions of have you been bitten, exchanged any bodily fluids or been scratched at all. Obviously said no to every question because it was true.

Your parents lead you inside, helping you squeeze past the citizens dashing around to catch their planes to wherever they were heading. The noise was loud, making you grimace at how distorted it all sounded. Y'know, like when someone screams in a room and it goes all weird whilst it's happening? It was like that the whole time until you had boarded the plane. It was everyone yelling over each other so they could be heard.

At the gates you hugged your family goodbye, squeezing them both gently. You'd make sure to remember this moment for the rest of your life. You closed your eyes, inhaling their scents as if you were trying to memorise it.

Both of your parents kissed your forehead and sent you on your way. And that was the last time you saw them.

The ride on the plane was pretty basic. Nothing eventful happened other than people babbling about what was going on and about the cure. Most people were heading to Canada because there were zero zombies there due to the maple syrup. 

When you arrived Merle was there to greet you and take you to his and Daryl's current home.

They had the same place for as long as you can remember. It was one of your favourite places. You visited regularly. So often in fact that you had your own bedroom.

When you arrived, you instantly went up to your room, relieved to be away from the effort if making small talk with the older Dixon.

You opened the the cream coloured door, kind of shocked to see that everything was how you left it, the only difference being the thick layer of dust that covered every surface.

Then again, it really shouldn't have surprised you that the guys didn't go snooping. They were big on respect and would hate it if you did that to them, especially Daryl. He almost never left his room, and if he did, he was out catching dinner or finding some way to provide without spending too much money.

The brothers put most of what ever they had into Merle's totally legit side mechanical business, which usually involved breaking people's cars, trucks or bikes even more than usual, and then fixing them up before charging them crazy prices, all whilst pretending to be helpful.

Sometimes you'd go down there and hang out with them, but most of the time you'd be with your dad when he was there, helping to get sales and recruit new workers, using your adorable features to persuade those who were weak into buying the products.

Considering your father owned the sales business, you lived quite a privileged life. You lived in a good house in a good neighbourhood, you had the most amazing dog in the entire world, you had some friends - not that you liked any of them, you went to a good school and you had a good education.

But when they say money can't buy happiness, you know it's entirely true. You loved being in the Dixon household because the simple life was the easiest. When you were there you were given the resources you needed and you just left to it. You were given a meal and shelter, you were given clean water and that was it. You weren't forced to do anything, but you had to pull your weight, and you liked that. It actually gave you the life skills you needed, a thing you didn't get back in England.

But being in America this time was different. Usually your room wasn't dusty, it was clean and the room wasn't musty. The radio would be playing down stairs and Daryl would be in his room doing Daryl things, like brooding or whatever. Merle would be tinkering in the garage, but this time there was none of that.

Your room was dirty, the house was silent, you could hear Daryl and Merle talking quietly, and you could also hear your heartbeat in your ears. It was as if time was still, and the only thing moving was you, your bag, the brothers and the dust particles.

You made your way to your bed, brushing the filth off of it. You knew there was no point changing it all completely, no matter how gross it was. There was something deep inside you that was saying that this was probably gonna be a short stay in the house anyways.

You kept your bag packed and you laid down in the single sized bed with a Spider-Man bedsheet, closing your eyes with a heavy sigh, the white walls disappearing from your view as you did so. You listened to the silence, your pulse loud in your ears and the sound of Daryl and Merles muffled voices.

"The kid thinks she's goin' home at some point. It ain't fair on 'er. One of us is gon' have to tell 'er." You could hear Daryl protest. You imagined him biting his nail as he did so.

"Or we could just wait until she figures it out herself." Merle countered, "By next week the world will have gone to shit, she'll see it for herself and need no explanation."

Daryl said nothing for the next few seconds, obviously considering it. "What about Canada?"

"That's just a rumour. We ain't risking that. If the cure is true then they'll share it with us. If not... if not then clearly her parents were right and here is the best place for her. They don't have firearms over there, meaning there's no security."

You frowned sadly, rolling onto your stomach. Your parents lied to you. You couldn't believe it. A small scoff escaped your lips. You would wonder why they didn't come with you, but you remembered they had a life back there. They had a business, a home and family. They did it to keep you safe, and you were grateful... but you were sad too. You were sad because you'd -

"-never see them again." Daryl told Merle, the sound of feet making its way closer to the bedrooms, "It ain't fair on her."

"No, but that's where we come in. She's practically family, so she's got us. We just gotta give her time. And when this all blows over, we'll try and contact them, and if not, she's still got us. I ain't dying, and I know you aren't either."

"If not? Merle they're most likely dead already."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I just wanted to say thank you to all of those that are reading, giving Kudos and commenting. It actually feels kind of surreal knowing people are reading my work. It feels great that you guys are liking it too! I'm super grateful <3 thank you so much!
> 
> As you may have noticed, some chapters have gone missing and some have been edited. That's because I've been doing extreme editing over the past few weeks, and it's now all organised!  
> I've also planned for serval chapters ahead so now I know where I'm going with this.
> 
> There will be several characters from the Z-Nation series introduced too! Yay!!!
> 
> Now, enough of me talking! Happy reading, everyone! <3


	10. Update:

Hey guys, I'm so sorry this has taken so long. I had to re write the chapter as it had somehow gotten deleted from my phone.

So far I am on 5019 words, but I have a feeling this is going to be at least 2 chapters worth all in one. 

I am slowly making my way to the part where Y/N is going to meet the Z nation group. I'm not sure how though. I'm thinking some time when when they're on the farm?

Also I apologise with the previous chapter. I know it sucks however it is important you read it to prevent confusion later on.

Anyways, the next chapter/s will be up soon!

Again, thank you all so much for the support and stuff. I really appreciate it!

Billie.


	11. Chapter 1 (Revamp)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the new version. I've left the old lot up for laughs. No mistakes 'n stuff in this version. Have fun. Love you all!
> 
> BillieBanshee

You sat, staring out of your window. It had become your habit over the previous two weeks. Sleep was elusive and when you did sleep, you were often plagued by nightmares. Your mind simply did not want to shut down.

It was only the middle of June, and you should've still been in England. Yet you were sure the rest of the world was in the same situation as you. You'd already been at the Dixon's temporary base for two weeks, spending your demanded time there for 'protection' until everything blew over. Which would probably never happen.

You'd done nothing but think during that time. You had far too many questions and too few answers. You constantly worked through every piece of information that you did have, hoping to make some sense out of everything. But so far, you weren't having much luck and it was frustrating beyond belief.

Staring into the dark night, the world around you was eerily quiet. Over the past few days, the usual sounds of life became extinct. The happy sound of birds, the neighbors mowing their lawn at the crack of dawn, the owls hooting in the night, the familiar sounds of foxes making vomiting sound effects.

When your parents flew you over to Georgia to stay with your dad's old colleagues, everything seemed almost completely normal, although you knew it wasn't. From what you'd heard on the news, seen in the papers, there was some sort of virus going around... Bringing the dead back to life, and infecting those that touched it.

The Dixon's, 'Uncle' Daryl and 'Uncle' Merle, weren't very sociable. You got food, water, a bowl of water to wash with and a five-minute walk in the garden each day; after that, you were given a book and told to keep quiet if you laughed a little too loud at a funny sentence.

If you asked a question, or even tried to speak to Daryl, you got a grunt in response. You didn't even bother attempting to communicate with the elder Dixon unless it was mandatory. You weren't ready to be felt up and called sugar tits just yet.

You were sure Merle wouldn't do anything like that to you since he literally fed you when you were a baby and your dad trusted him with your life; but there was no harm in being cautious, considering his past 'n all. Merle wouldn't stoop that low. Not with you. Not to mention you had only just turned fifteen in April, and you wanted to settle into your new status as 'Teen'. Anyways, you were a wait until marriage type, and you knew Merle probably had AIDs. Daryl however... no. You can't think like that. Not now. You were just a kid to him.

You froze. You then stared harder at the shadows at the end of the street. Seconds later, you were sure of what you'd seen. Someone had just driven onto High Street. Watching closely, you tried to determine if it was friend or foe. It was difficult to tell because, whoever it was, they were extremely adept at sticking to the shadows.

They may have been good at keeping to the shadows, but you quickly realized that they weren't being overly cautious. They seemed to be in a great hurry. Moments later, they were highlighted by the soft glow coming from one of the campfires in the yard as they crept closer.

You let out an exhale of breath, it was only Merle bringing back dinner.

"Merle's back." You announced to Daryl who was staring at the TV screen, channel hopping till he found something that was on air that wasn't a repeated warning or some "Stay Tuned" fuzzy picture.

Of course, you got a grunt in response.

"Come on, caveman. Let's see what he brought us."

"I ain't a damn Neanderthal."

"...Daryl,"

Grunt.

"Food..."

"Piss off will ya?"

You opened your mouth to give him a telling off, but you knew better than to push him right now. Everyone was stressed, hungry, tired, so you simply hopped off the windowsill and shuffled your way downstairs to get your bit of grub.

Taking a sharp intake of breath, you rounded the corner, nodding once to the Pedobear. "What'd you get?" You asked hesitantly, looking up to the taller man.

"Didn't get shit. The whole towns overrun." Merle explained bitterly, "Yer gonna go hungry tonight."

You let out a small whine in protest, "Not even a tin of—?"

"There's nothin', kid. Not even a tin of beans. I suggest you go upstairs to bed okay? I gotta speak to Daryl 'bout somethin'-"

You gulped slightly, were they going to kick you out? Had you done something wrong? A million thoughts ran through your mind at once.

"-nothin' for you to worry about though. We jus' gotta prepare in case those walkers come for us."

'A+ parenting, Merle.' You thought sarcastically. You wouldn't dare to say  _that_ out loud.

"Oh... Okay." You nodded, shooting him a nervous forced smile, "Um... Oh! Yes! That's what I was going to tell you! In the upstairs lounge there's a good watch out spot. You can see the top of the road because at the bottom it's a dead end... So if you want, you can have like— like a five-minute head start."

"Hm." He hummed, "That's a good idea. Could put Daryl there as a watchdog so he can finally do something useful."

A small snicker-giggle escaped your lips, "He's been moping all day. I think he's still trying to get the TV to work. The only thing on air is Friends re-runs and that alert thingy with the stay tuned static at the end. It feels like Groundhog Day," You sighed, shaking your head. "It's killing me."

Merle grunted a laugh before ruffling your unkempt hair, "Hunger will be the thing to kill you first, kiddo. Bed. It's 9 o'clock."

'Wait what?! Are we going to starve to death?! Oh god, oh god.'

"What'd ya' say? She looks ashen." Daryl grunted, entering the kitchen, eyeing up your slightly chubby panicked face as you stared off into space, clearly deep in thought.

"Told her she's gonna starve to death."

 _Grunt_.

You rolled your eyes, "I was just thinking. That's all. I hope mum and dad are okay." You sighed, shuffling off back upstairs to your room.

Naturally, the men gave you the little girls room.

Filled with barbies, pink walls, pretty white furniture, a small kiddies bed.

It felt as if they thought you were around eight years old.

In fact, you hated pink. You never liked it, you never will like it. But in times like these, you couldn't be fussy, you couldn't pick and choose where you wanted to live.

Merle and Daryl chose the houses. And in those houses, you would live until you were forced to leave.

Forced out by the walking dead.

——-

"How many?"

"I don't know."

"How can you not know?"

"'Cause there's too dang many 't count, Merle."

"How is there too— oh."

"Yeah. Now go get the girl. We need 'ta pack up 'n leave before they come any closer."

"Before what come any closer?" You yawned, rubbing your eyes. Their arguing had woke you up.

Your watch told you it was around lunch time, and ironically, it was the first time you had slept in this long in years.

"The Walkers. We need to get goin'." Daryl ground out, handing you his knife, which made you feel rather special since he let no one use his things.

"But three people can't fit on the bike," You reminded him quietly. "I mean... It wouldn't be safe... And three would be too heavy... And Merle loves his bike, don't you Merle? So we can't leave it behind—"

"Are ya tryin' to convince us to stay? This girls lost her damn mind." Daryl growled out, looking at you in anger and disbelief, causing you to feel ashamed and small.

"It's true though!" You looked between the men in panic. "You guys can go. I'll be okay. I know how to do this."

Surprisingly, you were shocked at what was coming out of your mouth. Were you really going to give up so easily? The apocalypse had only just started.

"Yer an idiot." Daryl snorted, "Merle'll find a truck, we shove the bike on 'back. What do they teach ya in England? Yer all pathetic when it comes to this crap."

Your cheeks flushed in humiliation. What he said was true. One of the reasons you were sent over here was because of the guns. Most of England would be dead by now, apart from farmers and clay pigeon shooters, of course. Because guns and any other weapons were banned there and all they had were pitchforks and steak knives.

Cringing, you confirmed what he said was true, and before you knew it, you were wedged between the brothers in a red Chevy.

A small yawn escaped your lips as you rested your head back against the seat, "Y'know," you started, "a knife isn't going to protect me when it comes to these walke—"

"No." Merle said firmly.

"Why not?!"

"As if we're going to find a gun 'round here," He scoffed, "They're considered more valuable than gold now days."

"Well, Daryl has a crossbow. That's not a gun, is it? Anyways, you could just steal one—"

"If ya can make somethin' you can keep it." Daryl interrupted, causing you to smile slightly, "Make a slingbow. Simple to make, can shoot anything from it." He shrugged. "But, if ya find a gun you can have it. I don' think just a knife is gonna keep ya safe, unlike  _Merle."_ Daryl shot a dark glare at his brother.

You bit your lip to hide your smirk as you sunk deeper into your seat.

There was a comfortable silence for the rest of the drive... To nowhere. Well, it was nowhere to you, since you had no clue where you all were heading. But you trusted them.

Your dad had worked with Merle and Daryl a few times. You weren't sure exactly what the trio did when they met up, but dad made specific trips to America to be with them every few months, and a few times a year they'd come over to England.

They said they were businessmen, but you weren't exactly sure how true that was. Salesmen, possibly, but businessmen? Nah.

"Where are we going?" You spoke after around half an hours silence.

"Dunno." Merle replied, "Ain't got a location set in mind."

You chewed on your lower lip slightly, looking down to the floor, "Can we go Six Flags? It's near Austell."

Merle shot you a slight glare, "I ain't drivin' four hours to go to a theme park that probably won't even work." He growled out.

You bit your lip a little harder, squeezing your eyes shut as you cringed. You knew you shouldn't have asked, "But I want to go." You couldn't help but say, "I've never been... Mum and dad never let me. Dad was always working and mum... She doesn't like rides."

"Boohoo. It's too long of a drive." He snapped, stopping the car on the empty road. "If you're gonna complain about it the rest of the ride then I suggest you get out."

You looked up at him sharply, unsure if he was serious or not. He clearly was judging by his face.

What had you done wrong? You only pushed the subject slightly.

He was being so nice earlier.

"You— dad wouldn't want you to do this."

"Yea'? Well, your dads probably dead along with your pretty little momma. Now get out. I've had enough of your shit."

You opened your mouth to protest, but nothing came out. You glanced quickly between the two brothers.

Daryl had the face of someone who had just eaten a lemon, and he clearly didn't agree. But he didn't say anything. He wouldn't fight his brother.

Not even for you.

"Um, which way is Austell?" You asked as Daryl opened the door to climb out, but you didn't give him a chance. You threw your bag over him before climbing over his lap, purposely kneeing him in the crotch, holding back a smirk of satisfaction as he hissed in discomfort. That'll teach him for not sticking up for you.

You got out of the car, nodding when he pointed in the direction, which was a guess for him.

His eyes seemed apologetic, but he didn't say anything. He did hand you Merles handgun, which conveniently only had one bullet.

For you.

You narrowed your eyes, "What kinda bullets does this take?" You questioned as Daryl showed you the basics on how to load, unload and prepare to shoot, as well as how to take the safety off and put it on again.

"9mm." He said gruffly, ruffling your hair once as you turned to walk away.

You nodded, "Thanks." You mumbled, walking away off into the trees.

_I've had enough of your shit._

_9mm._

The last words the Dixon's ever spoke to you.

Arseholes.


End file.
